Meidaini’s sudden struggle and frantic muttering made the soldier sense trouble the moment he heard “Saint.” He swiftly struck her neck, knocking her out cold. The soldiers apologized once more to Amelia and departed without delay.
Yifia stood bewildered, utterly clueless about who this “Saint” Meidaini had mentioned. Forgive her—she hadn’t been in this world long. Upon arrival, she’d been confined to a slum bed, knowing none of the Westis Empire’s common knowledge…
Amelia, however, raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. She hadn’t expected the church’s Tiffany to possess such abilities. Still, the silver sword’s power was too feeble to hold her interest. Trivial matters aside, teasing her cute new “toy” was far more amusing.
“Yifia, I’ve asked the butler to prepare desserts—caramel pudding, your favorite. Come back with me?” At the word *desserts*, Yifia’s focus instantly shifted. How lucky she was to know Amelia! Yet remembering the ingredients and custom pot still waiting to be bought, she suppressed a flicker of reluctance and shook her head. “Desserts can wait. The gift can’t.”
“I’m sorry, Amelia. I still have things to do.”
“No problem. Stay safe, okay?”
Amelia smiled, stroking Yifia’s smooth black hair before leaning close to whisper, “The caramel pudding will be delivered to your dorm. Keep an eye out.” With a casual wave, she turned and left.
Yifia remained dazed by Amelia’s sweet scent—until Jesina, crouched nearby with intense focus, rushed over the moment Amelia vanished. Hands braced gently on Yifia’s shoulders (her last shred of rationality holding back the shake), Jesina jostled her back to reality. Yifia blinked up at flushed cheeks, quickened breath, and chestnut-red eyes locked on her like an interrogator’s. She swallowed silently. *If this room weren’t sealed, I’d bolt.*
“Yifia—you actually *know* Lady Barron?!”
As a fangirl standing inches from her idol for the first time, Jesina felt blissfully lightheaded. Lady Barron hadn’t spoken to *her*, but that was fine—someone that extraordinary wouldn’t greet a pebble like her. A single glance was blessing enough. Her life felt complete… until Yifia casually used *Amelia’s* name. *Wait—WHAT?!*
Her new commoner friend from Pris Academy knew Lady Barron? And so closely that Lady Barron brought soldiers for *her* safety?! What a dreamy, envy-worthy friendship! Yifia’s image in Jesina’s heart instantly soared—and a tiny, secret pride bloomed. *Of course she’s great—Lady Barron approves!* Jesina conveniently forgot their rocky start, rewriting history: *I spotted her genius among thousands. My taste is flawless!*
“Calm down! I didn’t say anything because Amelia’s *that* popular!” Yifia slipped free and stepped back. *Seen too many fangirls in my past life. Safety first.*
“Do you see Lady Barron often? Is she as wise and humble as they say? What’s her Pris Academy residence like? Sob… I wish I could visit… a noble lady so beautiful and radiant…” Jesina gushed endlessly. Ears ringing, Yifia cut in: “Jesina—do you know who the Saint is?”
Though Meidaini was just a delusional woman running an unlicensed stall, that final whisper of “Saint” had hooked Yifia’s curiosity.
Jesina froze. “Huh?!” She stared as if Yifia were an alien—then her shock melted into pity. She sighed, patted Yifia’s shoulder. “Yifia… I never guessed you were from the countryside! Your accent sounded capital-born.”
“The ‘Saint’ Meidaini meant is Tiffany—the church’s ‘Eye of God’.”
Yifia’s curiosity spiked. Ignoring Jesina’s dramatic countryside-daydreaming, she pressed: “What does ‘Eye of God’ mean? Can she foresee the future?”
“Yifia, your imagination runs wild! It’s just a title. Saint Tiffany has been blind since birth… but her eyes are *peculiar*.” Jesina hesitated, words stuck.
Yifia leaned in.
“By day, she sees nothing. At night, her vision returns. That’s why the current Pope adopted her from the orphanage.”
“Before witch divination rose, nobles flocked to the church seeking her blessings.”
“They believed the gods favored her: born of light, she needed no daytime sight. But night belonged to demons—so Tiffany *had* to see, to protect the world.”
Jesina spun the tale like a bard. Yifia listened, amazed yet skeptical. *Sounds like religious myth-making…* Hailing from Blue Star, she trusted science, not scripture.
“Then why did nobles stop going?”
“An incident happened. During a blessing for a high-ranking figure… Saint Tiffany’s eyes suddenly streamed bloody tears…”
